Perfect
by Serena Kenobi
Summary: The Doctor gives Seven a painting lesson, and she learns that perfection is sometimes overrated. Featured on the Fanlib homepage!


**Perfect**

**By Serena Kenobi **

**Rating: K+**

**Summary: The Doctor teaches Seven how to paint, and she learns that perfection is sometimes overrated. Set probably a few weeks before "Human Error."  
**

**Parings: Hints of C/7 (not a JC fan, sorry) and friendship between Doc/7**

**Disclaimer: Me? Own Voyager? Bwa ha ha ha ha!! **

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"I fail to see the relevance of this activity," the ex-drone sniffed in disdain, her sharp blue eyes focused on the object in front of her. 

The man – if he could be called that – sighed, rolling his eyes as he did so often with the ex-Borg beside him. "I think my next exercise will be focused on your need to experience a little 'fun'," he said dryly. "The Borg: unable to have fun because they don't see 'relevance' in the activity before them. Typical."

Seven of Nine eyed the Doctor. "The Borg do not experience the need for such a frivolous activity," she told him matter-of-factly. "Their only goal is to attain perfection."

"Hmph," the Doctor snorted, "of course. How could I forget."

Seven of Nine gazed at the empty canvas in front of her and glanced down to the palette filled with blobs of brightly colored paints unsullied by the paintbrush.

"The reason I've brought you here, Seven," the Doctor continued, "is to help you expand your more… creative side. Who knows," he grinned, "you might just be the next Leonardo Da Vinci or Renoir. Maybe even Mary Cassat."

Seven raised an eyebrow.

The Doctor gave her a look. "Come on, Seven, just try. Couldn't hurt anything, now could it?"

"I suppose not. But I am… unsure of how to start. Perhaps we should activate the Leonardo Da Vinci hologram, so that he may instruct me further in the exercise."

The Doctor looked wounded. "What, don't trust my expertise? I downloaded some of the famous artist's talents into my program a few months ago."

Seven looked down at the paintbrush in her hand, feeling uneasily foolish. A new emotion that she didn't particularly like. "I did not mean to offend, you, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled charmingly. "Of course you didn't, and no offense taken. Come; let's begin. First, we must start with an under-painting…"

* * *

Two hours later and four thrown-out canvases later, Seven was ready to give up or murder the canvas in front of her. 

"This activity is pointless," she snapped, staring at the new, half-painted canvas with utter contempt and hatred.

"It's only pointless because you're not _feeling _the emotions of your work," the Doctor soothed. "You need to put all of the feelings you're experiencing into the painting itself."

"I do not wish to continue."

The Doctor scowled at the young woman. "Maybe you should just assimilate the _painting_ so it will be 'Borg perfection' instead."

Seven threw him an evil glare in return. "Perhaps you should set an example by painting first," she suggested, holding out the paintbrush and now paint-filled palette.

The Doctor eyed it. "Very well," he grumbled, "but only to show you that even a hologram can paint with emotions." He studied the half-painted canvas and promptly dipped his paintbrush into a blob of sage green paint and began to dab carefully on the canvas.

Seven watched silently with anticipation, annoyance, and an irritating curiosity.

In the next twenty minutes, the Doctor had magically transformed the mess of colors into a lovely landscape filled with trees, mountains, and even a small pond. He stood back to admire his work, pleased with himself. "I decided to go with the Monet style," he explained, indicating the larges blobs of paint and hardly detailed painting.

Seven, she had to grudgingly admit, was impressed. "It is… adequate," she said slowly. "But it lacks the fine detail and perfection of the Renaissance masters. I wish to learn from such artists as Michelangelo or Da Vinci. The 'Mona Lisa' is a fine example of close detail."

The Doctor gave her a look of exasperation. "I should've known," he said in a wry tone, putting down the palette and brush. "I should give you a list of readings on the Renaissance masters for you to read later. Computer," he said, "gather and replicate a list of readings on Leonardo Da Vinci and Michelangelo and the Renaissance painters. Place the list in the replicator in Sickbay."

There was a beeping that followed, and the computer's female voice said, "List gathered."

The Doctor smiled at Seven. "Now I want you to try again." He handed her the paintbrush, which she stared at with distaste. "One more try," he repeated firmly, "and if you're not satisfied, then we can stop."

She slowly reached out and took it. "Very well."

"Good," the Doctor beamed, and brought out a brand new canvas, placing it on the easel. "Now, we'll start with a more simple subject." He placed a bright red apple on a small table in front of her. "Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. We'll focus on the basics today, then go deeper into composition and shadowing. Why don't you start out with a blend of white and blue acrylics to start your under-painting. Then, mix them together to create a pale blue. At a little brown in there, too." When she had done so, he went on, "Excellent. Now, tell me where the light is hitting the apple."

Seven looked at the apple for a moment. "The light is hitting the apple on its right side," she said.

"That's correct. Now, for your light spots I suggest a mix of whites, pinks, yellows, and maybe light blues. For your darker areas, some darker blue, reds, and maroon. Then you–" he was interrupted by a voice coming from his comlink –

"Torres to the Doctor."

The Doctor groaned and said, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"We've had a malfunction down at Engineering, and one of the crewmen is injured. We need you at Sickbay ASAP."

The Doctor had little success in masking his frustration. "Acknowledged. I'm on my way." He looked at Seven, but she was seemingly engrossed in her painting. He smiled at her. "Keep up the good work," he said, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Seven glanced at him as he left the holodeck. "Acknowledged," she stated, then returned to painting.

A few minutes later, the holodeck doors opened to reveal Commander Chakotay. He halted in surprise at seeing Seven there, but regained his composure and strode forward toward her. "I didn't expect to see you here, Seven," he said, making his presence known. "I thought this was the Doctor's holodeck program."

"It is, Commander," Seven replied, painting a few more delicate touches onto the apple. "But he has expressed the wish for me to indulge in more… creative activities." She sounded uncomfortable.

Chakotay came up to stand beside her. "Hence the painting," he motioned to the canvas, and gazed at it, silent.

Seven waited for a critique, but none came. "Is something wrong, Commander?" She asked, concern grazing her voice.

"What? Oh, not at all," Chakotay shook his head. "I was just admiring your beautiful apple."

Seven looked at her painting. "It is… adequate," she said awkwardly, not used to being praised. Uncertainty began to seep into her mind, and she tried to shake it off, but to no avail. "However, I need to widen its perimeter by approximately two centimeters to gain an accurate impression."

Chakotay smiled. "Seven, it's not supposed to look exactly like the apple itself, or otherwise you could just photograph it. The impression of the work is what makes the painting beautiful."

"You do not believe I should change its structure?" Seven said, unsure.

He shook his head again, that warm smile still on his face. "No, don't change a thing. It's perfect." With a nod, he turned and walked out of the holodeck.

Seven stared after him, an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she gazed back at her painting, her chest heaving a sigh. She put down the brush and palette, wiping her hands on a nearby rag.

She had done enough painting for one day.

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**Hope you liked. Reviews are always appreciated, but flamers will be hurled out into space. **

**- Serena Kenobi**


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